Cursed Blood
by justagirlwholikestowrite
Summary: When the brothers go to burn Crowley's bones they hear talk about "the most haunted house in Britain" rumored to host ghosts and angry spirits. The Winchesters go to give it a look only to find a lonely, broken boy inside. AU timeline with Sam and Dean meeting fifteen year old Remus Lupin. My first crossover and first AU, please review.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: **Ok so the timeline for this is kinda AU, but the rest is cannon. I made it that Sam and Dean were born 20 years earlier that cannon (so Dean was born in 1959 and Sam in 1963) and the Marauders were born 14 years later, in 1974. This story is set in 1989, so Dean would be 30 years old, Sam is 26, and the Marauders are all 15, because it's the end of their fourth year. I was inspired by the episode in season 6, "Weekend at Bobby's" where they hunt for Crowley's bones in a place that could theoretically be near Hogwarts. But I'm using the boys as they were in season 4, so smack in the middle of the apocalypse, and with all the pain that came with it. So if you're wondering why they're in the Scottish Highlands, that's why. Rated M because I'm writing the boys with the language they actually use. Also please review because I wasn't sure about posting this and I would love to hear what people think :)**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 1

Sam and Dean collapsed into two bar stools in the packed, ancient looking, dimly lit pub. The room was filled with chatter from people with heavy accents, and the dark wooden floor was covered in scuffs, spit, and cigarette butts. For the Winchesters, this was practically home.

Sam signalled to the bartender, a pretty brunette in her late twenties with curly hair, heavy eyeliner, and a busty tube top. "Two beers, please," he yelled, flashing a grin

"What type?"

"Whatever's strong." Sam replied, glancing at his brother. Dean had been smart enough not to try to smuggle anything through customs, and they had started traveling to the Scottish Highlands as soon as they stepped off the plane. Now having gone more than three days without a drink, Dean was spacing off more and sleeping less. Sam knew that alcohol wasn't a decent excuse for a support system and that he should be trying harder to get Dean to talk about Hell. But, considering that he had taken to drinking demon blood while fucking Ruby in the same motel rooms he used to share with his brother, he wasn't one to talk.

"Y'know Sammy, we're in Scotland. We should really be sipping on some good, strong scotch," Dean said, slapping the bar with two hands.

Sam snickered. Dean in a grimy bar was like a pig in mud. "Dean, you don't _sip_ on anything, and the phony cards aren't that reliable overseas." he responded as the bartender placed their beers in front of them

Dean took a long gulp from his glass, and wiped away the foam from his upper lip. "Now _that's_ the good stuff," he exclaimed, his grin growing even larger still.

The boys drank through their second and third pints, remaining lighthearted and cheery, until suddenly, Dean's brows furrowed. Sam instantly feared that Dean's favorite numbing agent had dredged up a bad memory, "Dean are y-"

"Shhhh,"

He realized his older brother wasn't lost in his head, but was rather trying to get into someone else's. He was focusing hard on listening to the conversation happening next to them between two men swaying on their stools. With a large grin, he swiveled around in his stool to face the two older men. Sam shook his head. He would never understand how news of a case could make Dean so happy. Most people run away from the paranormal- unless you're a Winchester; then you rush forward with arms open.

"Excuse me, sirs," Dean started in an overly posh manner. Sam bit back laughter. Give Dean a couple of beers in a foreign country and suddenly he thinks he's cultured. "What were you saying about this 'Most Haunted House in Britain'?"

The two men exchanged drunken, impish, looks, before the one furthest from Dean took the last sip of his drink, smiled a grin with crooked front teeth, and began to speak. "I was on the train to visit my sister in the Highlands when I saw dis man reading a magazine- funny man too. He 'as wearing dis bright green cloak and _laughing- really really laughing_. So I looked over at dis magazine of 'is and I could've sworn I saw a picture _move. _So af'er a few minutes he quits laughing and gets dis very puzzled look on 'is face and I ask 'im what e's reading and he starts going on about this town _Hogsmeade_ as if 'e expects me to know where it is. I've never even 'eard of the place, and I go up to my sister a lot." The man leaned closer, and lowered his voice, causing Dean to nearly topple off his seat to catch the man's words. "And then 'e starts talking about this building 'e called the _Shrieking Shack _and 'ow the locals are terrified of it. Fink there are ghosts in it or somefink. And the way 'e was talkink about it I thought he 'as really scared. At first I thought 'e was high on somethink but he was real proper about the whole think. So I got 'ome and I looked it up and ere's the weird thing; first I checked dis old map of mine from my pa and it said that there was a town in the Highlands called Hogsmead, just 'ike he said. I was so shocked I actually double checked, and according to a map I got last year, the area's been abandoned and desolate since the 1600s. You 'ear a lot of wierd stories but the 'ay 'e was talking 'e sounded real terrified. Wish I could go up there and see dis building for myself but I can't find any public transport up there and I don't drive."

Dean's eyes sparkled in the darkness of the room as the mysterious man tipped his beer back, searching for any last drops. He pulled a tourists map out of his pocket and laid it on the table, "Would you mind circling where this town is supposed to be?"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has followed and favorited! Reviews would be appreciated ;)

Enjoy!

Chapter 2

"This feels wrong." Dean declared for perhaps the hundredth time in their 5-hour drive.

"You wanted to check it out. I said we could just go home, not our problem to check out a possible spirit in a different continent, but you wanted to drive up here."

"You know it has nothing to do with the spirit, Sammy. It's driving the fucking left side of the road!" exclaimed Dean dramatically. "We've dealt with a lot of curses, but to drive like this, I feel like someone is really out to get me. So, do we know anything about this possible 'Shrieking Shack'?"

"Nope," Sam replied. "Nothing, nada, zippo. I guess if the town's really as small and isolated as the man said its possible that word hasn't traveled far. It would be nice if we knew the name of that magazine that he said the dude on the train was reading, but no luck."

"Oh yeah, I was thinking about that," said Dean. "He mentioned that he was dressed funny and acting odd. Do you think he could have been a spirit too? Maybe we're dealing with something with a sense of humor that's trying to spread rumors about itself?"

"Maybe a tulpa?" offered Sam.

"Hm, maybe a tulpa," pondered Dean, "or maybe we aren't dealing with a Casper at all. Maybe we got a shifter or something hiding out in there. Like another trickster."

An image of Dean dead, crushed under a piano, flashed in Sam's mind. "Dear god I hope not."

"Sammy?"

"Yup."

"This is not normal."

"Nope." No, this was definitely not normal. Sam and Dean had spent their lives on the road, seeing every small weird town and major city across North America, and Sam had never seen anything like this. For one, there were no cars. The boys had driven around for fifteen minutes looking for parking before they realized that there were no parking regulations because there was no other vehicle parked. Not even a police car or taxi. They hadn't seen any signs at all really, except for the 'Damaged Road' and 'Toxic Waste Area Ahead' signs that had appeared during the trip that they had chosen to ignore.

But the road hadn't been damaged, and the town they had found certainly did not seem to house anything lethal. At least, it didn't seem so, even though the streets were lined with apothecaries, broomstick repair, and other absurd services. Many of the people walking around wore obscenely colored cloaks, as if they walked straight out of a picture book. The streets were filled with school age children milling around, some of whom wore normal clothes, allowing Sam and Dean to not stick out too much.

Dean lowered his voice, "What, did we just walk in on a cult or something? Could it all be a nest, or a wicken? Is it even our type of thing or are they all just psychos?

"Well, it's something. Let's go to the post office and see if we can find a newspaper or something that talks about that Shrieking Shack, or we'll find a local to ask."

" But Sammy?" Dean said in a solemn whisper, "Until we find out what type of kool-aid these guys are drinking, guard up."

When the boys arrived at the post office, they did a double take to find that a building typically known for being quiet was quite literally bustling with noise. "Of course there are damn owls in the post office," grunted Dean between gritted teeth. "Naturally."

"Next!" yelled the worker behind the desk.

"Hi-" started Sam,

"Wotcher! Americans! Come to see the only all magical village in Britain, have you? I know it's a concept that you're used to in the States, but here we're pretty integrated in with the muggles. Hogsmeade is really something special."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. "Yes! That's exactly why we're here. We came to visit some old family friends and they suggested we give it a look."

"Actually," added Dean, "they were telling us about some rumor they had heard about a Shrieking Shack, would you happen to know anything about that?"

"Aye, the Shack. Apparently it used to belong to a nice family, but it's been abandoned for decades. I seem to recall hearing something about it belonging to the school now. We don't know what's living in there, but it's something vicious. Moved in a couple of years ago and gives a real concert every couple of weeks, everyone in town can hear it."

"Would you happen to have any articles about it?" Asked Sam, "Anything in a local paper or magazine? We'd love to read up about it. Y'know, it's history, it's owners, that type of thing"

"Sure, I've got plenty, but why just read about it when you can see it? Walk up the street and turn right, there's a really nice viewing area where you can see the whole house. Probably swarming with Hogwarts students on a day like today."

"Great, great, could we also have those articles though? And would you happen to know of a place where we could spend the night?"

"Couple of blokes like you would probably enjoy the Hog's Head. Just up the street, you can't miss the sign."

"Awesome, do you happen to know if they take card?" Dean added with a smile.

Sam and Dean sighed at the man's confused face.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I decided to make some edits to this chapter because I wasn't completely happy with it. I like it more now, hope you do too.**

**Enjoy!**

Sam put down his backpack and squatted down in front of the doorknob as Dean stood watch behind him.

"Of course the magic people have their own magic money" Dean grumbled angrily.

"Yeah, it's called a working economy." Sam twisted his trusted lock pick, confused as to why it didn't seem to be working. This was a simple lock, although maybe a lotta bit rusted, and should have been swinging open. "_Maybe it's sealed with magic," _he thought to himself. That would make sense. But Sam didn't know how to pick a magic lock. Unless… maybe he did? It had been close to two weeks since he had any demon blood, and although he was itching for some more and didn't feel as powerful as he was when fully juiced, he could still feel it in there. He thought back to a day almost four years ago, when he had moved the dresser in Max's house using only his mind. That was back in the beginning, when he was only having visions in his sleep that would wake him up feeling sweaty and rattled. His abilities then compared to what he could now were like night and day to each other- or maybe heaven and hell. Sure, his visions had stopped when Azazel died, but he remembered what Ava had said, and Andy, and Jake. Once you flipped the switch, there were all kinds of things you could do. And he had flipped that switch the instant he grabbed Ruby's knife and drank her like a glass of whisky. "_If I'm gonna drink the juice,"_ he thought, "_may as well use it."_ So, he directed _all_ of his focus onto the lock, thinking of all the gears inside which he knew would open if in the right way. He could feel it, the magical force pushing back on him, willing the door not to open, so he focused on that too. He directed all of his mental energy onto this lock telling it to _open._

"Hello? Earth to Sam! The lock man, it's a rusted piece of crap, come on dude!" Dean's impatience shattered through his concentration.

"Oh- sorry, was just thinking about something for a second." Sam grabbed the knob, twisted, and pulled, and the door swung open.

Sam glanced at the room while Dean heaved up the duffel. At first glance, it appeared faded and grey, with peeling wallpaper and dust particles floating in the air like snow. There was old furniture strewn about, much of it broken or ripped. But as Dean turned around and they stared at the room together, Sam realized that it was alive with color. Scarlet.

There was old, dried blood caked between the floor panels. All the windows were boarded, but the boards looked worn and scratched up. The tears in the wallpaper had been made by claws, and the furniture and floor were loitered with scratch marks as well. Sam realized that the furniture wasn't just broken, it had been torn apart and gnawed on.

Dean pulled his gun out of his waistband, "So Sammy, you ready to squat in the most haunted house in Britain?"

"Oh yeah," he replied, pulling out the EMF register and silver knife from his pocket.

The brothers walked around, taking in a full view and walking carefully, waiting to be attacked. The room they were in had once been a parlor. There were broken sofas and armchairs, a tall cabinet, and a large fire grate. Dean walked over to the wallpaper. "So, a monster for sure," He said, touching the long tears.

Sam didn't put the EMF away, "Yeah, but it looks like something died here. This is a lot of blood. Either a lot of messy animals torture, or…" Sam walked over to the cabinet and looked inside. He turned to Dean with a confused look on his face, holding a purple blanket with a large crest emblazoned on it with a big "H" in the middle. "These are clean." The color was vibrant, there was no blood on them, and they smelled freshly laundered. They certainly seemed out of place in the bloody, dusty house.

The brothers wandered into the kitchen and examined the outdated oven and empty cupboards, finding no signs of EMF or sulfur. They walked upstairs and heard a faint noise coming from behind a closed door. Dean stood in front of it while Sam stood to his side. Sam nodded.

Dean kicked the door in.

* * *

The bedroom was dusty and dark, with thin steaks of daylight filtering in from the cracks between the boarded windows. But the room wasn't empty.

Sitting in the bed was a young boy who seemed to be in his mid teens. He appeared lanky but was huddled up under a red blanket. Long fingers covered his face, but they didn't stop Sam from noticing the tears that dribbled past his hands.

"Hey!" Barked Dean.

The boy dropped his fingers quickly and grabbed a thin stick which was laying beside him and jumped out of the bed. "Who the bloody hell are you?!" he yelled in a thick accent as he pointed the stick at the brothers. His eyes were rimmed with red and seemed glassy with exhaustion.

"We could ask you the same thing," replied Dean.

"Um, not to be rude, but I was here first, so do you mind if I ask the questions? Besides, this is private property, you have no business here."

"We didn't mean to scare you, we just came to look at the house." Said Sam calmy

"Bullshit."

At that moment there was a ruckus of noise downstairs.

"Remus! Remus! You'n here?" Yelled a voice with a prim accent.

The boy- Remus apparently - didn't take his eyes off Sam and Dean "Up here!"

Three boys came running up the rickety stairs, and as soon as they set eyes on Sam and Dean they had sticks out too and were yelling. Meanwhile Sam and Dean had both unflasked holy water and was spewing it around them in long arcs, which only added more confusion to the scene.

"Oi! Wands up!" Barked the prim accent.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?!" yelled a boy with messy black hair.

"How'd you get in here?" came from a boy with light hair.

Sam and Dean were being bombarded with questions, and they exchanged glances as they lowered themselves to their knees, and placed their empty hands up for all the boys to see.

"We don't mean any harm, just came to talk." Said Sam calmly.

"That's a load o' dragon shit" spat the boy with the fancy accent. Sam looked up at the boy and got his first proper look. He couldn't have been older than eighteen, but certainly not younger than thirteen. His grey eyes looked stormy and rage filled as they stared at Sam and Dean. Shockingly, it reminded Sam of Dean's face when he felt that Sam or John were in danger.

"Americans?" asked the blonde boy curiously. He was shorter than the other, with pale blue eyes and a stocky build.

The third stepped forward and the other three all shifted their gaze to look at him, "Where are your wands? And what were you splashing us with?"

Dean spoke up, "We don't have any, and it was just water. Some creatures react to it" A look of puzzlement came across all four boys' faces.

"He means we don't do magic at all. No wands, no tricks, no nothing. We hunt evil creatures and we heard there might be one hiding here" Sam added. "We wanna talk to you guys."

"Muggles?!" muttered the boy with the grey eyes.

"Accio wands,"murmured Remus from the corner. Nothing happened.

"Yeah we're not magic, ok? We're from America, we were in the area, and we heard that this house was haunted. We just came to check it out. We were expecting to find some evil ghosts or some shit, I guess we were a bit surprised to see you. That's all." Explained Dean.

The three boys all turned their heads toward Remus, as if waiting for his answer. He took a deep breath, and when he exhaled Sam could almost see the exhaustion that comes with carrying a burden weighing on his shoulders.

"Sure, we can talk."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:**** Thank you so much for all of the follows and favorites. It gave me motivation to keep writing this. Sorry for taking so long, but Corona times are weird times. I'm hoping to make some serious progress on this in the next few weeks before my life gets busy again. Thank you for reading and reviews are always appreciated!**

**Enjoy!**

The one with glasses spoke first. "Before we tell you anything, you're going to tell us who you are and what in bloody hell you're doing here."

"Also, take off your jackets " said the grey eyed one. "and show us your left arm." The other boys' eyes grew wide and they cursed their stupidity under their breath for not asking first

Dean didn't like the idea of shedding his layers, which held more blades than a kitchen and had two guns and six rounds hidden in the pockets. "Why-" started Dean, but he was cut off by the one with glasses whose face was taught with anxiety.

"Just do it."

Sam and Dean complied, removing their jackets and showing the boys their forearms, which were bare except for some hunting scars.

The boys all exhaled, and some of the tension in the room dissipated.

"We good?" asked Sam

The boys nodded, and Sam and Dean put their jackets back on.

"I'm James Potter," said the one with glasses and messy hair.

"Sirius Black," came from the one with grey eyes. Sam didn't know much about accents, but his sounded very polished.

"Peter," added the blonde one.

"Remus," said the lanky one with a yawn. "Sorry- finals week. Haven't been sleeping much." Sam could see that from the slumped way he sat and the defeated look on his face. For a moment he was reminded of his years at Stamford, and how he and his friends would study for hours fueled by coffee, jokes, and ambition. Sam remembered staying in the library hours past his friends had left, knowing that he had something extra to prove.

"I'm Sam," he said, "and this is my brother Dean,"

"Howdy," added Dean with a nod.

"In America, we're called hunters," Sam continued. "We take care of all the stuff that goes bump in the night. Ghosts, ghouls, vampires, the works. They're all real."

"No shit," muttered Peter.

"Is it all muggles who are thick, or just Americans?" murmured Sirius.

Sam ignored their comments, trying not to hide his unease as from their blasse reactions. While they had passed the holy water test, there had been no opportunity yet to test them with silver, and the brothers knew better than to trust strangers just because they looked human."We were in the area for a different job, and we heard that this place was the most haunted house in Britain. We came to check it out, see if we could take care of the problem."

The school boys froze, and anxiety rolled off of them so thick it was almost visible. Sam and Dean shared looks while the boys tried to paste fake grins over their anxious faces.

Peter swallowed. Dean noticed the way the boy stared purposefully at Remus and turned his head to the taller boy.

Remus met Dean's gaze and gave a flat smile in response. "Sorry, not much for you to do. This house is haunted by a dead relative of mine who died when I was very little. When I started at Hogwarts the spirit got very angry that I had left my family to come to school here. The first night that I was at Hogwarts her spirit had a fit. Every month that I'm still at Hogwarts she throws another one. I'm the only one who can calm her down."

"What about the blood on the walls?" asked Dean.

"Sometimes animals sneak in, try to make nests here. Occasionally a person will sneak in. They quickly find out that it's not a good idea." Said Sirius lazily.

"Yeah, you guys were probably only safe because Remus was in the house," added Peter.

Sam could see the gears turning in Dean's head.

"What was her name?"

"Diana Lupin."

"Where's she buried?"

"Cremated. Her ashes are back in Whales."

"Damn."

The hunters turned their back to the teenagers, who seemed to be wearing very smug grins. "So it's attached to him," murmured Dean. "We can't burn him. There has to be a ritual or something that can detach a spirit from a living person."

"Maybe it's him who's attached. Maybe she meant something important to him and he can't let go."

They turned back. "Did you know your Great Aunt well?" Prompted Sam.

"No. My mum told me that she came to see me when I was born, but I never met her."

The Winchesters looked confused.

"Well," said Sirius, "you guys should just go because there's nothing you can do.

"We can't just leave it here," said Sam.

"Why not? Remus graduates in a couple of years and then it will be fine."

"Spirits don't just vanish. They get angrier and angrier. For now it might calm down when you're here, but one day it won't spare you." Explained Dean.

"That's what the department of magical creatures is for," Said James. "It took Remus some time to file a complaint, and he said it wasn't urgent, so they should be here sometime this year to take care of Great Aunt Diana."

The boys were quiet for a moment, visibly pensieve and anxious. "So, now that you know all about us, who are you?" Sam asked. Although he had deduced enough about the boys that he didn't really need to ask, he was hoping it would put them at ease. He could also tell that they were hiding something, and he was hoping that if they talked enough maybe they would slip up. Besides, he was curious about this magical world that he and Dean had apparently stumbled into.

James continued, "We're Fourth years at Hogwarts-"

"That's a wizarding school. The best in the world" interjected Remus. "I guess the Statue of Secrecy doesn't matter with you since you already know about the things that live in our world. Most muggles don't know that there's such a thing as ghosts and grindylows, yet alone witches and wizards.

And speaking of Hogwarts, I believe that you lot have a detention with Slughorn that you'd rather not miss."

"This one is Sirius' fault!" mumbled Peer teasingly.

"That's bloody right!" exclaimed Sirius proudly, adding a fist pump for good measure.

"I take it you two can get back into town?" Asked Remus.

"Actually, we're planning to stay here for the night. We forgot to go get magic land money," said Dean.

"You can't do that," quickly replied Remus nervously.

"We're not scared of a ghost. We have some tools of our own to help us out." Said Sam.

It was James who stepped up. "You wanna come stay with us?"

"What?!" yelled Remus and Sirius at the same time.

A wide grin broke out on James' face. "Yeah, come stay in the castle for a night. It gets really cold in here and if you've never had house elf cooking it's not to be missed. Besides, imagine how epic it would be to sneak muggles into Hogwarts!"

"Illegal," said Remus.

"Probably cause for expulsion," said Sirius happily.

"Complicated," sighed Peter.

Sam thought about the idea of spending the night in a magic school instead of a dark, old, dirty, abandoned house. Part of him knew that it was dangerous to walk into unknown territory like that, but everything the Winchesters did was dangerous. Besides, he and Dean could both use a nice bed and a meal cooked by whatever a 'house elf' was. The four boys certainly seemed- unusual- but Sam didn't think they were dangerous. Then again, he hadn't been the best judge of safety lately.

He glanced at Dean, who was looking at him expectantly. Sam knew that Dean would go with his call on this one, even if he thought differently. Lately it had seemed like he was too tired to put up a fight. Sam hoped that the boys were right, that this was a case best left to someone else to solve and that he and Dean could be on their merry way soon. At least they should get a good night's sleep before they leave.

"Sounds great."


End file.
